


Castles

by Kiyaar



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Hypothermia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:58:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyaar/pseuds/Kiyaar
Summary: A hypothermia fic where no one gets naked.





	Castles

“Tell me something,” Tony says. 

His head is pillowed on Steve’s shoulder, one of Steve’s hands slid around his front, up his chest, resting over his breastbone. 

“Ok,” Steve breathes into Tony’s sweat-slick hair. 

They’ve done this a thousand times, just like this, Tony tucked into him, against him. Steve is bigger (barely). Tony likes to remind him, likes to pat him on the shoulder and kiss his trunk of a neck and run his calloused hands over Steve’s skin. 

Steve pulls him closer and smoothes a hand over Tony’s forehead. “Don’t fall asleep on me.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” Tony says. He coughs a little. 

He knows the timeline. Knows how a human body falls into sleep, how first, briefly, your body thinks you’re dying, knows he’s not going to move. He wouldn’t dare. 

“You know all my stories,” Steve hushes. He tries to press harder, but it’s seeping into him, now. He could stay here forever with Tony, the two of them, melting into sleep in each other’s arms. 

“Tell me anyway,” Tony mumbles. 

“In Germany,” Steve says, because his war stories are like bedtime stories for Tony, “there was this – it was right before the plane,” he murmurs. “There were castles, Tony, everywhere,” Steve tells him, “Doom would–” he laughs. “Doom would be put to shame.” 

Tony is silent. 

“The trees were so big, Tony,” Steve breathes, “you could walk between them, there was fog that froze, it looked like a dream.” 

“You hate snow,” Tony snuffles. “You–” The rest of it gets lost in a fit of coughing. 

Steve isn’t shivering, anymore. He’s not even cold. He thinks they could be back there, in that forest in Germany, where the sky seemed to open up for a minute and the war ceased to exist and everything was so pure and untouched. 

He wants to tell Tony about it, how they all stepped out of the snow and into a field and the mountains rose up before them like a fairytale. How they wandered into an honest-to-god castle out of a storybook with snow drifting in the corners and towers that seemed to spear into the sky itself. 

“Tony,” Steve says. 

Tony’s limp in his arms. He can barely feel Tony’s skin anymore, under his jacket. He presses, tentatively, but his fingers stick together. He thinks he should look at his palm where it’s pressed up against the piece of armor that’s punctured Tony’s right lung. 

The blood that wells up on Tony’s mouth is so red. 

“Tony,” Steve says again, because if he doesn’t say something, the wind will steal his voice, too. 

If SHIELD is still looking, they should have been here hours ago. It’s been hours. Has it been hours? 

Tony’s breath is thin and shallow and shuddering against him. “They’re not coming,” Tony mumbles, but he’s slurring. “They’re not, Steve, you should go.” 

He can feel the blood oozing between their skin. He should, Tony is right. He should dig out what’s left of Tony’s armor and strip their friends’ bodies for layers and set his broken arm and try and fix the transponder that’s rolled halfway down the mountainside by now, he should give Tony a chance – 

There’s blood dribbling down Tony’s chin. 

“Here is something you don’t know about me,” Steve says, from far away, from miles away. “I was so angry that first day –when you found me, remember? You,” Steve gasps, “I thought I was done. I hated that I wasn’t.” 

Tony doesn’t move, and Steve thinks he takes a deep breath, 

“And then,” Steve says, but the words are hard to form. “Something changed. I can’t remember now. At some point I didn’t remember what it was like before I loved you,” Steve tells him. “Have I told you that?” 

Steve kisses his forehead. He’s crying, he realizes, belatedly. It should bother him, but everything seems so simple. 

Stay here, with Tony. 

“Tony,” Steve says. “Tony.” 

Tony’s eyes are open, his face tilted up to the falling snow.

**Author's Note:**

> More tumblr ficlets! I am [kiyaar](kiyaar.tumblr.com) on tumblr! and this is a [rebloggable post](http://kiyaar.tumblr.com/post/135282784308/cold-212-days-of-angst) (old) that you can reblog.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Donjons (Castles remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13785186) by [ranoutofrun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranoutofrun/pseuds/ranoutofrun)




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